


Clutching At Straws

by turps



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:27:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22054801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: Mikey/Pete, failboat Christmas shopping AU
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18
Collections: 6 Degrees of Pete Wentz - December 2019





	Clutching At Straws

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sperrywink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink/gifts).



> I suspect this isn't what you were wanting, but close enough I hope <3
> 
> And I've also just missed the anon time it seems. Oh well. Surprise!

The first meeting is in a coffee shop.

Which, of course, it is. Because, one, _coffee_. Two. Where else would Mikey see someone so incredibly hot and also irritating as all fuck?

>  
>  
>

“I don’t think hot and irritating are specific to coffee shops,” Gerard points out, which would be annoying if Gerard didn’t look so ridiculous sitting on the floor, a carefully wrapped parcel on his lap and ruby red ribbon tangled around him. As he is sitting like that, all Mikey does is pointedly glare for a moment before waving off Gerard’s point.

“Maybe not,” Mikey allows, and not so helpfully tugs at the end of the ribbon, making it tighten around Gerard’s wrist. “But in this case, he was there and….”

“If you’d said a hot hipster, maybe,” Gerard says, frowning as stares into the distance. “Except, he wouldn’t be a hipster if you saw him at that coffee place downtown, you know, the one with the ginger cookies? No hipsters go there, I think they’re scared off by the small menu.”

“Right, no venti, half-whole milk, one quarter 1%, one-quarter non-fat, extra hot, split quad shots there, but the cookies are fucking amazing,” Mikey agrees, making a mental note to pick some up next time he’s passing. “And I wasn’t talking about hipsters.”

“Never say that again.” A long pained pause, and then, “But if you did find a hipster hot and wanted to date him, that’s okay,” Gerard says, earnest in a way that makes Mikey’s heart clench. “You can tell me, I won’t judge. Even if your hipster has one of those little freaky beards and a manbun.”

“You’ve had a manbun before,” Mikey says, and okay, maybe it was one that happened due to Gerard pulling his hair back into a high ponytail one time, and then leaving it until his hair eventually formed into a greasy matted clump, but it still counts. “And it’s not my hipster. I haven’t got a hipster. He was a hot annoying little fuck.”

“Who stole your coffee cup and smiled about it,” Gerard puts in, patting Mikey’s knee as he adds sincerely, “I’m here for you at this trying time. He’s obviously an annoying little coffee cup stealing hot bastard.”

“Right?!” Mikey says, deciding to overlook the overly exaggerated sympathy. “I was going to get it for mom. It was the last one on the shelf. It had snowflakes.”

“She would have liked that,” Gerard says, giving a last squeeze of Mikey’s knee before looking down at the tangle of ribbon around him. “I hate ribbon. Next time I’m putting mom’s gift in a box.”

Mikey sighs and says, “At least you have one.”

~*~*~*~

The second time is in a bookshop.

And it’s not like Mikey even wants to be there. He likes books well enough, in the way he’ll flick through one every few months and they make excellent makeshift tables when piled up, but compared to comics they’re obviously inferior.

>  
>  
>

Hunched up in his jacket, Mikey squints as he stares down at the display. Not that it’s an actual display as such, more a table piled high with books, each stack showing lurid covers featuring overly muscled men clutching scantily clothed women to their bare chests. 

Which, fair enough, Mikey isn’t about to judge, even if he can’t see the appeal of so many muscles. Still, he’s running out of time to get a gift for his mom and he reaches out, fingers brushing against one of the books when someone steps behind him and says, “Nice choice.”

Startled, Mikey jumps and abruptly turns, the side of his hand catching the biggest pile of books, making them tumble to the ground.

“Fuck.” Flustered, Mikey tries to stop the cascade, but there’s nothing he can do but let them fall, books, including the one he was holding, bouncing against his feet until he’s surrounded.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” The man who’d spoken crouches and picks up a book, holding it out to Mikey. “I think you wanted this one.”

Instinctively, Mikey takes the book and then looks up, taking in the man before him. The incredibly annoying but still incredibly hot man from the day before. He’s still wearing the same hoodie, dark ink appearing from under the cuffs and Mikey wants to both glare and see more. “You….”

“Me,” the man says, and smiles, wide and cheerful, ignoring the fact that every person in the shop seems to be staring at them right now. “Like I said, nice choice. Fabio is a classic.”

“Fabio?” Book clutched in his hand, Mikey tries to make sense of the conversation while toeing at the fallen books, attempting to push them out of sight.

“The model on the front cover,” the man says helpfully, picking up another book and brandishing it at Mikey. “That’s Fabio. The ladies go wild for him, and the men. I think it’s the hair. He’s got good hair.”

“Okay,” Mikey says, slowly taking a step back as he resists the urge to throw the book at the annoying hot idiot in front of him. “Thanks for the info. I’m going now.”

“You don’t want your book?” Hot idiot says, seemingly uncaring of the chaos around him as he watches Mikey put the book back on the display table. “It looks like a good one, very racy if you like that kind of thing.”

“Well you read it and let me know,” Mikey mutters, and it’s hot and crowded and he still hasn’t got a gift for his mom. “Maybe you can read it while drinking from your stolen snowflake coffee cup.”

Which is petty of him, but Mikey can’t care, even if his heart does sink a little as annoying hot guy’s smile fades a little in response.

But, tough. He shouldn’t go around stealing coffee cups in the first place.

~*~*~*~

The third time is in a chocolatiers.

Desperate by now, Mikey’s also about frozen, his feet numb and cheeks stinging as he steps into the shop, easing into the crowd of waiting customers and shutting out the snow behind him.

Honestly, he knows he’s clutching at straws and it’s not like his mom actually wants chocolate for Christmas. Well, okay, scratch that, she likes chocolate well enough, just, it seems a bit generic against Gerard’s specially created pottery bust.

But then again, how could anything stack up against that?

>  
>  
>

Stamping his feet, Mikey takes off his glasses, wiping them on the sleeve of his sleeve when the doorbell rings and someone steps into the shop. 

“Oh, hey.”

Despite his blurry vision, Mikey would recognise that voice anywhere, because apparently this is his life now. One where he keeps bumping into annoying hot idiots who steal his coffee cup and cause chaos in book shops.

“Are you following me?” His glasses back in place, Mikey looks at hot idiot, who right now still looks just as hot, but also chilled to the bone, his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket and his dark hair plastered close to his head.

He’s also got snowflakes slowly melting on his eyelashes, which is fucking endearing and Mikey reminds himself of stolen coffee cups and Fabio adorned books before he does something ridiculous like smile. 

“No.” The man says, but he sounds uncertain, like Gerard when he’s pretending he hasn’t been looking at tentacle porn or eaten Mikey’s last slice of pizza. “Okay, maybe. I was outside and saw you coming in here and….”

“Decided to follow me,” Mikey states, and normally he’d want to know why except, it’s days away from Christmas and he needs a gift for his mom and that means he hasn’t got time for interrogations or pointed disdainful silences. “That’s fine. Whatever. But if you’re here, help me find something for my mom.”

“I can do that.” The man grins, almost bouncing in place as he stares around the small space and then points at the counter, where amazingly space has become clear, exposing beautifully arranged displays of candies, truffles and chocolate. “What about those? My mom likes truffles.”

It’s a possibility, and Mikey takes a step forward, crouching so he can clearly see the display of dainty cocoa dusted truffles stacked behind the glass of the counter.

Annoying hot guy has crouched too, seemingly unconcerned that this whole situation should actually be weird and he’s not helping a stranger find a gift for his mom. “You could get them wrapped in a box, add some elegance.”

“As long as they don’t use red ribbon,” Mikey says, relieved that finally, his gift hunt could be close to the end. Mind made up, he’s about to straighten when hot annoying guy takes a stumbling hunched over step back, bumping into a woman who’s moved to stand behind him, causing her to jerk, and drop her large cup.

And there’s nothing Mikey can do but watch as the cup hits the ground, the lid popping off and liquid exploding outwards.

“Are you okay?” Annoying hot guy kneels, looking up at Mikey, and seemingly uncaring he’s in the midst of a mess of hot chocolate and cream. “Are you burnt? Do I need to throw you in a bath of ice water?”

“I’m fine, no ice water needed.” And Mikey is fine. Yeah, his pants are stained and he smells like chocolate, which is just wrong because if he was going to be doused in any kind of hot beverage he'd want it to be coffee. But he’s not actually hurt, just resigned as he brushes a glob of cream from his knee and heads for the door and says, “But it’s a no to the truffles.”

Which sucks, but he’s still got a few days to find a good gift. That has to be more than enough.

~*~*~*~

The fourth time ….

Well, the fourth time is actually the third time and also the first, in that annoying hot guy never leaves and they end up going for coffee.

>  
>  
>

“Stay here, I’ve got this.”

Urged towards an unoccupied table, Mikey sits. It’s not the best location, too close to the door that keeps being opened, letting in the cold, but right now it’s the only place empty. WIping at his face, Mikey sighs and pulls out his phone, elbow bumping against the mugs that have been left piled up.

Thankfully, they don’t fall, which is a miracle considering the last few days, and Mikey takes a deep breath, trying to relax as he quickly checks his messages and then watches the people scurrying outside, most carrying multiple bags.

“I got you a coffee,” the hot, okay, not so annoying right now, man says, setting down a large coffee in the last free space available. “It’s black, how you like it, right?”

“You know my coffee order,” Mikey says, and takes a long drink, enjoying the burn in his throat and chest as he stares over the table. “Are you a telepath or something?”

The man grins and takes a drink of his own coffee. “No, just nosy. I heard your order the first time I saw you.”

“When you stole my coffee cup,” Mikey says, his annoyance surging back as he remembers reaching out for the last snowflake coffee cup and having it disappear from under his grasp. “I was going to get that for my mom.”

“I got it for my Patrick,” the man says, grinning and utterly unrepentant at being a coffee cup stealing sneak. “He likes cups and he likes snowflakes and I needed a gift.”

“So did I,” Mikey mutters, and would protest more, but really, what’s the point when he can sit here and drink his coffee and forget about gifts for a while.

“We could look for another one if you want?” Hot guy says, sounding sincere as he scrubs at his damp hair, making it stand up in short tufts. “I think I’ve seen them in other stores and if I haven’t. Well, we can find something else.”

“You don’t even know me, Mikey points out, and hot guy nods, apparently conceding the point even as he leans in close, his chest pushing against the stacked mugs and making them clink together.

“Technically no, but I do know you like black coffee and don’t know who Fabio is and don’t care if you’re splashed with hot chocolate.” Hot guy stops speaking then grins as he adds, “The book was great by the way. If you want I’ll tell you about the racy bits.”

“Do they feature Fabio?” Mikey asks, and takes another drink of his coffee, looking at hot guy over the rim.

“Of course.” Hot guys grins even wider, his own drink forgotten as he extends his hand and says, “But if we’re going to talk Fabio and his amazing hair, I think I need to introduce myself. Hi, I’m Pete.”

Pete. Mikey likes the name, and holds out his own hand as he says, “Mikey.”

And for the first time, lets his own grin blossom.


End file.
